


The Worth of an Emerald

by GlitterPan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cedric isn't dead, Child Abuse, Dumbledore Bashing, Multi, Other relationships possible, Possible Hermione Bashing, Possible Weasley Bashing(sans twins and older siblings), Sexual Abuse, Summer after fourth year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterPan/pseuds/GlitterPan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the summer after fourth year and Harry is back with the Dursley's. Their abuse has gotten even worse, if possible, and Harry struggles with the death of Cedric Diggory, his best friend and protector of two years. But when Harry is spirited away, it can only be hoped that the damage done by the Muggle and Wizarding worlds alike can be undone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Harry writhed, screaming silently as he burst from the nightmare that had taken grips in his mind. He sobbed, unable to stop seeing Cedric, and the way the other boy had died. How he had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, how his lifeless eyes had stared out, unseeing and blank. Cedric had asked him to take his body back to his parents, it was his last request. But Harry had failed. He had only been able to get himself out, leaving the true Hogwarts Champion’s body to whatever desecration the Death Eaters could construe.

Harry curled in on himself, as if to protect from the images swarming his mind. He couldn't stop them. Flashes of Cedric mixing in with recollections of Voldemort being reborn, mixing with his Uncle looming over him; all of the things that terrified him right in one spot. He barely managed to keep himself quiet, remembering that his Uncle would not be happy if he woke his relatives up again.

This summer had been especially hard. Uncle Vernon was on probation at work, which when mixed with Harry’s nightmares, made for many, many painful beatings. But Harry deserved it, for after all he was a freak, wasn't he. A worthless freak that couldn't even bring back the body of the boy who shouldn't have died. A freak that should have died in that graveyard instead of Cedric Diggory.

Harry rolled over, tears streaming down his face, ignoring the pain that sprang up all along his body. He deserved it. It was all his fault.  
*

Far away from the quiet little neighborhood in Surrey, there was a mansion. Now, this mansion was not like the everyday, ordinary, dates-back-to-the-crusades mansion. No, this was the mansion of an Ancient and Noble Wizarding Family. This, of course, meant that no opulence had been spared.

The grounds were immaculate, managing to be both incredibly beautiful and undeniably terrifying. Rose bushes grew lining a path that led to the front door, but the roses were not red. These roses were absolutely, pure black. Littered among them were little silver statues, pedestals, each of which held the carving of a certain snake.

The front doors themselves were three times taller than the average man, and gilded with flowing silver. The doorknocker was crafted in the image of a serpent, clasping its tail in its mouth. It was crafted in such a way that one would be afraid to knock, for fear of the serpent biting their hand simply to spite them for daring to disturb the occupants of the mansion.

Beyond the gilded doors were many hundreds of rooms all done to the same degree of excellence as the outside of the mansion. Each of them held their own theme and charm, though some of them inspired more repulsion than charm. Very few of them were occupied.

In part of the manor there was a room that was decorated in muted hues of silver and green. The room was one of the few that did contain occupants; in fact there were two of them. They lay together in a bed with a silver frame and black sheets, twined around each other as only lovers could be. They were both male, with rather well defined muscles and an overall gorgeousness about them that would make any artist shiver. Their contrasting locks of raven and starlight flowed together under the fractured rays of the moon, casting shadows over their bodies. They slept on peacefully.

In yet another room in the manor was a single boy. He was alone, and unlike the other two, he was awake. He was deeply immersed in a tome that was bound in leather, which creaked every time he turned a page. His silvery hair was absently pushed to the side as he read by the light of the fire, sinking even deeper into his comfortable world of events long past.

And in a different room, far on the other side of the castle, there was another occupant. One who was not quite as peaceful as the others in the house were. As the night wore on, his sleep grew more and more restless, until finally his eyes snapped open, showing iris’ of blood red. He gasped, sitting bolt upright, and quickly set about reaffirming himself as to where, and even who he was. As several minutes passed he calmed considerably, and slid gently out of the bed that had been completely tossed while he was asleep.

He stepped over to his wardrobe and pulled out a dressing gown, drawing it around himself almost absently, as if his mind were somewhere else. He moved silently to the door to his chambers, sliding out into the sitting room attached to them. He strode over to a cabinet that held a multitude of colored bottles, and picked one out, pouring himself a glass, and moving to stare into the fire. He sank deep into thought, pondering the visions that had plagued him.

After a while of this, his door opened. He didn't have to turn to know who it was.

“It’s getting worse.”

The other man’s words were a clear statement, not a question. He spoke as if he had been expecting this to be so.

“Yes. We have to get him out of there.”

The other man hummed in agreement, moving to sit beside the proclaimed Dark Lord. They sat in silence for awhile, before the newcomer sighed, bringing the attention of the other on himself.

“There are plans to be made, Tom.”

Tom Riddle nodded, before finally turning to look into the dark brown eyes of Cedric Diggory.

“Yes. Go.”


	2. Chapter Two

Harry walked down the scorching road, letting his feet take him where they would, not really caring where he ended up. In truth, he was thinking about his Uncle.

Strange things had been happening lately. His Uncle would come up to his room and do things to Harry that he had never done before, things that confused Harry. These new things often hurt, but his Uncle always seemed to enjoy them immensely. And his Uncle would sometimes bring things with him, things he called “toys” that were often put inside him. They felt funny, and sometimes they really hurt. Harry didn’t know what to do, as this was all very new to him, but he supposed that as a freak he must accept the punishment given. He was glad that his Uncle cared enough to try and set him straight.

As deep in thought as Harry was, he never noticed the person coming to stand behind him. That is, until there was a firm chest against his back. Harry struggled, remembering what happened when his Uncle was in this position.

“Be calm.”

As the words were whispered, Harry felt an intense pressure around him, squeezing him. But even this strange new sensation could not drown out the shock that was pouring through his veins. For a second there, he could have sworn that that voice belonged to Cedric Diggory.  
*  
As Harry came back to consciousness, he became excruciatingly aware that there was someone still pressed against his back. He bucked, trying to throw this person off, not wanting the pain of punishment.

“You will be still, Harry.”

There were several things about this sentence that shocked Harry. The first was that he had been called by his name, and not Freak. This confused him, because usually it was only at Hogwarts that people used his normal name. He didn’t deserve to have a name anywhere else.

The second was the tone that the command was given in. For while it was just that, a command, it was spoken softly, with a gentleness that Harry was not used to.

But the third thing he noticed was the most shocking.

He was trembling, but he stilled. Then he turned around very slowly, the other man's arms still around him. For several seconds he simply stared at the man’s solid chest, terrified to look at his face, before he screwed up his courage and forced his gaze higher.

When his eyes met the dark brown eyes that he knew so well, the ones that he had been having nightmares about all these weeks, the ones that couldn't be here, he started hyperventilating. This was impossible. Harry had watched him die. He couldn't be here, he couldn't be alive.

Harry felt himself being pulled closer the Cedric’s chest, strong hands smoothing gentle circles on his back (making him wince a little as they pressed on a wound given to him by his Uncle), and a deep voice soothing him, muttering sweet words of reassurance in his ears.

Harry pulled back and took one last long look at Cedric’s face, and then threw himself into the other man's arms. He was sobbing now, but he didn't care. He could feel Cedric catch him, holding him tight, and he knew that Cedric was really here.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Cedric. I let you die and then I couldn't get your body back and-“ Cedric cut him off before he could get any further.

“You were never meant to Harry. I’m so sorry I had to let you go through all of that, but we had to make sure that Dumbledore didn't think you were in on it. I’m so sorry for not coming to you sooner, but there was never a chance.”

Harry stared incredulously at the boy who had been his secret best friend for two years. He couldn't believe that Cedric was apologizing to him.

Just then a wave of pain and nausea hit Harry, and he staggered backwards, clutching at his abdomen before sinking to the ground. He could distantly hear Cedric yelling his name, but the sheer pain made him unable to answer. The last thing he was aware of before he fell unconscious was Cedric taking Harry into his arms.  
*  
Cedric sat in the chair beside Harry’s bed , staring down into the face of the tiny boy whom he had quickly fallen in love with. As he did he couldn't help remembering the first time they met.

*

_Cedric walked his prefect's routes absentmindedly, running through everything he knew about runespoor for the test that Snape was giving them the next day. He had already caught two couples out after hours, and given them detention before sending them back to their dorms. He really didn't want to know what they did after that._

_As he was walking he heard something. He stopped, and focused on his surroundings, trying to find the noise. It was only the first week back, so no one could be causing too much trouble could they? He heard the noise again, a strange, snuffling sob. He was alarmed, because he could hear the pain in the person’s voice. He tracked the noise behind a tapestry that hid a small alcove, and was shocked by what he saw inside._

_Huddled against the wall was a boy the size of a first year. His shoulders were shaking with sobs, his face hidden by his wild, silky hair. Judging by the colors of his robe , he was a Gryffindor, and a young one at that. Cedric moved closer, wanting to comfort the small child. He crouched down by the shaking boy._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_With the speed of a viper, viridian eyes snapped up to meet his. There was a gasp of shock as the little one bolted away from the hand that Cedric had offered, quite obviously terrified. Cedric was dismayed by how frightened the child was, knowing that it couldn't speak well for the boy’s health._

_“I won't hurt you, it's okay,” he soothed, trying to get close enough to the boy to see the extent of his injuries. He recognized the kind of defensive posture that the boy had taken in as being the same that some of his quidditch players who had gained injuries to their ribs would._

_Cedric expected the boy to ask who he was. The words that he received instead shook him to his core._

_“I’m sorry, I-I’ll be better, p-please d-don’t hurt m-me. I’m sorry!”_

_The small boy continued stuttering out apologies, and Cedric was sickened by what he heard. How could someone do this to a child? How could someone break such a sweet little boy to the point where he was apologizing for being alive?_

_Cedric backed off, knowing that if he got any closer than he would scare the frightened young one even more. He recognized the boy, now that he was actually looking at him. He felt even sicker as he realized that he was looking at the so-called savior of the Wizarding world. A second year, who was the size of a nine or ten year old._

_“Alright Harry, can I call you Harry?” He added cautiously, trying to get the boy to open up a bit. He needed to take Harry to someone with medical training soon. He knew how dangerous broken ribs could be if left alone. There was the chance that one could shift enough to puncture a lung, which could be fatal._

_Harry looked at him uncertainly, as if not sure how to react to this stranger in front of him. He slowly nodded, and Cedric noticed the wince that followed the motion, as if there was something in his neck that was bothering him, or he had a headache._

_“ Well Harry, I want to help you-“ His words received a violent reaction, with Harry scuttling backwards, his eyes flashing with an overwhelming fear. Cedric stopped, confused at the reaction his words had gotten, before grasping the implication. His blood boiled as he came to realization that someone had hurt the tiny boy under the name of helping him. Someone had convinced the boy that whatever abuse he had suffered had been in the effort of ‘helping him’._

_Feeling bile rise in his throat, Cedric swallowed heavily and pushed on, knowing that if he didn't get Harry help soon he could be even more hurt than he already was._

_“Harry, I want to get you to someone that can heal you.” Harry stopped at these words, absolute befuddlement showing clearly in his eyes._

_“I-I’m not s-supposed to be h-healed,” the tiny boy said, then continued “ t-this is h-how I l-learn.”_

_Cedric fought the violent influx of his stomach that these words caused, knowing that he couldn't lose it now, right in front of Harry. He had to get the boy to someone who could help._

_“Harry, being hurt isn't going to help you learn, and right now I’m worried about you. I think that you could have some type of internal bleeding, and I need to get you to someone who can help you.”_

_Harry whimpered, backing away from the older boy fearfully._

_“D-don’t want to get h-hurt.” Cedric felt his heart pull at the words._

_“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Harry” Cedric stated solemnly, his eyes shining with conviction. The boy moved towards him hesitantly._

_“You p-promise?” Cedric knew with complete certainty that his next words were the truth._

_“Absolutely”_

_He held out his hand to the quivering boy, and after several moments of hesitation, Harry took it._  
*  
That night seemed so long ago now. Cedric could remember just how terrified Harry had been, just how terrified he himself had been. It had shocked him to his core.

Approaching footsteps broke his train of thought, and he turned slightly to see the door opening and Tom walking in.

“Any change?”

Cedric shook his head desolately, grief clouding his features. He looked back towards Harry with sorrowful eyes. Only one thought kept running through his head. If he had only brought Harry with him, or protected him somehow...

“Don’t you dare.”

The simple statement shocked Cedric out of his wallowing, and he turned to look at the older man in surprise.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. There was no way you could have stopped it, absolutely nothing you could have done. You know that if we had taken him any sooner than it would just have resulted in more pain for him.”

Cedric admitted that this was sound reasoning, knowing that had they taken Harry away on that night in the graveyard even, than the Order and Dumbledore would have followed. They had to wait until he was out of the school, and there was no one watching him.

“I know that. But… I can’t help but feel…” He paused, searching for the right words. His eyes once again caught the broken form of the boy on the bed in front of him, and his throat closed with the powerful emotions assaulting him.

“I feel so damn helpless” He choked out, tears trailing down his face. Tom came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, a rare validity of the affection that the Dark Lord felt for a select few of his followers. Cedric tried to pull himself together, gasping in his sobs, before they eventually trailed off to little hiccups. He hurt for the tiny Gryffindor-come-Slytherin that he had come to love, a hurt that went beyond the borders of emotional pain and bled into the physical. He wished dearly that he could take all of the pain that Harry had been dealt onto himself, but he knew that this wasn't a possibility.

After a few moments of silence, Tom started speaking in a low tone, nearly a whisper.

“ It will be hard for him. It will be hard to overcome all of the labels that have been thrust on him, whether by the muggles or the Wizarding world. It will be hard for him to deal with the emotional pain of what he has gone through, not to mention the physical pain.”

Here he paused, shifting to make sure that he was looking Cedric in the eyes.

“But that’s exactly why he has people like us, who would do absolutely anything for him.”


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing that Harry became aware of was the disturbing lack of pain. Usually the only time he had this feeling was at Hogwarts, and normally that was only after Cedric had given him the right potions…

_“Cedric!”_

_Cedric grinned at the much smaller boy, watching as he walked down the lamp-lit corridor. His smile faltered as he noted the limp in Harry’s step. He was expecting some form of injury on Harry this year, given his home situation, but he was hoping that it wouldn’t be too bad._

_Harry suddenly pitched forward, and Cedric dashed to him, catching him just before he hit the ground. He looked down franticly at the tiny form in his arms, cradling him gingerly. Harry moaned, his eyes fluttering open, gazing up at the upperclassmen who he had befriended the previous year._

_“Harry, don’t move!” Cedric’s voice was frantic, and Harry frowned. Cedric had done so much for him, and Harry wanted him happy. He shouldn’t have that kind of panic in his voice. The injured little seeker raised one hand, trembling with the effort, and rested it on Cedric’s cheek. Cedric looked shocked for a second, but then grasped Harry’s wrist, leaning into the touch._

_“I’m okay” Harry smiled tremulously, nodding ever so slightly. Cedric returned it hesitantly, and for a moment they just sat like that. Then Cedric gathered Harry to his chest, pulling him up into his arms bridal style. Harry automatically shifted, and Cedric frowned for a moment, before he realized that Harry had moved so that his head rested right over Cedric’s heart. An idiotic grin spilt over his features, and Cedric stood carefully, making sure not to jostle Harry too much._

_“C’mon, Harry. Let’s get you to help.”_

Harry cringed and curled in on himself, shaking with the silent reminder that such a thing would never again be possible. Cedric was dead and it was his entire fault. Yet even as these thoughts (thoughts that had consumed him for weeks) ran through his mind, some tiny fact tugged on the back of his consciousness.

And then he sat bolt upright, the revelation hitting him like a steam train. The words careened through his head, tearing through the haze that had been upon him for weeks.

**He’s not dead.**

A hysterical giggle bubbled past Harry’s lips, and he quickly stuffed a fist in his mouth to stifle the noise, habitually looking up to see if he had woken his uncle (an action that never ended well).  It was then that he registered the fact that he was not in his familiar, gray, bloodstained room.

He was laid on a bed that felt like it was made of clouds, satin sheets tangled around his legs. There was a wardrobe across the room from him, a solid one that looked to be made of birch. On the left of that there was another door, one that seemed to lead into a bathroom, if the sliver of it that he could see wasn’t misleading him. Beyond the wardrobe on the other side was a mirror, one that stretched the length, width, and height of the wall until it reached the intersection with the wall at the end of the room; or more accurately, the window. The entire wall was made of windows that overlooked a massive garden. Rich blue drapes were strung across the length of the windows, currently drawn back to expose the view.

A sudden shuffle made Harry whip around to face the other side of the room. He froze as he looked at the unfamiliar man sitting in the chair beside his bed. Harry immediately started mapping out how he would be able to escape the room, looking to the only other door at the other end of the room. There was a set of stairs that led down from the raised platform where the bed was and into the den area. He would have to skirt around the huge circular sofa (facing the fire, possible floo).

Another noise made Harry quickly aware that he had little time to decide what to do. The mysterious man stirred, and Harry instinctively launched himself backwards, tumbling off of the bed and under it just as fast. He kept himself as small as possible, and made an effort to silence his breathing.

He heard a small groan. From where he was he could only see a small strip of the stranger’s legs, and he watched them anxiously as the man stood. He observed the man taking several steps towards the bed.

“Damn!”

Having discovered that Harry was not in the lavish bed, the man had started searching the room. He finally went to search inside the bathroom, and Harry saw his chance. He rolled out of his tiny hiding place and made a mad dash for the door. He heard footsteps following after him, and pushed himself to run faster, to get away.

He came up on the end of the corridor, having practically flown past the doors lining the walls on either side of him. He skirted around a set of armor in his way, looking back over his shoulder at his pursuer. He was almost there-

And suddenly he wasn’t moving at all. He felt like he had run straight into a brick wall. Disoriented as he was, it took him a moment to register the solid arms that had come to circle his waist, or the firm chest that he was pinned against. He struggled against the hold, trying to get away, trying to escape.

“Ah, there he is!”

Harry struggled harder, wanting to sob. He was caught. He was in the hands of strangers and he didn’t know what was going to happen to him. His breathing became very shallow, and his vision started to swim.

“Harry! Harry look at me!”

That voice.  Harry froze, looking up into the face of the man holding him. A man who was certainly not a stranger.

And suddenly it was all catching up to him. Cedric was alive, he was with Cedric. His angel, his protector. He sagged against the older man, comforted by the feeling of safety that being in Cedric’s arms brought.

“I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up he was gone, and when I went to look in the bathroom he ran.”

The stranger’s hurried explanation came tumbling from him. If Harry had had the energy or will to care, he would have seen the concern in the man’s eyes as they roamed over his body, checking for injuries that might have happened in the short time that Harry was out of his sight. But as it was, Harry did not have the energy to see, or even to think beyond several simple thoughts.

Thoughts of Cedric. And of himself. And of himself and Cedric. God, wasn’t that a nice thing to think? _Harry and Cedric_. They could be together. He wouldn’t have to exist alone now, wouldn’t have to fight the battle against his own head without his leading commander.

“Harry.”

Soft fingers slid underneath his chin and tilted his head up so that he was looking into gray eyes that swam with love that Harry felt reflected back out of his very being.

“You’re alright, love. I’ve got you. You’re alright.”

The whispered platitudes and sweet words had Harry calming down, relaxing enough to actually take stock of his situation.

Cedric obviously knew the man who had been in the room when he woke up. That meant that he must be trustworthy, because Cedric had trusted him to be alone with Harry. If Cedric trusted him than Harry knew that he could too.

However, knowing that he could trust the stranger didn’t make it any easier to turn around and face him. Harry steeled himself and turned so that he could see the other man clearly.

The wavy brown hair and deep mahogany eyes reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on who. The stranger stood a good foot taller than Harry (but to be fair, nearly everyone did), though he was not quite so tall as Cedric. He seemed guarded, but at the same time he was incredibly familiar.

Harry’s eyes widened as he finally placed where he had seen the man before. He backed hurriedly into Cedric, trying to run, to get away again. Cedric stopped him with gentle hands and whispered words.

“It’s not what you think, love. Hear us out, we can explain everything, I promise.”

Harry, his breathing almost completely slowed to normal now, gave a hesitant nod and let himself be led in the direction of “his” room.

Soon enough they were settled back into the gorgeously upholstered armchairs that set next to the unlit fireplace. Harry had staunchly refused to let go of Cedric. The fear lingered in his mind that if he lost contact with his lover than he might never see him again. Cedric had easily accommodated, not really willing to let go of his Harry just yet either. They had come to rest together in one of the armchairs-- which was more than capable of holding them both-- with Harry in Cedric’s lap, his head buried in his recently returned lover’s neck.

Cedric rubbed soothing circles into Harry’s lower back, reveling in the feeling of holding the smaller boy again. It had been far too long. He looked up, feeling Tom’s eyes on him, and saw that the other had settled into his own chair and was staring at the two of them with a soft, and yet unbelievably pained eyes. Realization hit the teen, and he wondered how he possibly could have forgotten.

“We’ll find him, Tom. They can’t keep him from you forever.”

The older man nodded, turning to gaze into fire that was gradually burning itself out. He saw himself reflected in the flames. A bright, lively source, being slowly but surely diminished, suffocated without the spark it needed to survive.

His musings were interrupted by movement from Harry in the chair across from him. His eyes snapped back to the much too tiny teen, and he made sure he was listening attentively when Harry finally spoke.

“How are you alive?”

               

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all let me say how much I absolutely love everyone who took the time out of their day to even read this story, let alone like and comment on it! You guys are awesome! 
> 
> Now next order of business, excuses. I have none. I really don't. But I'm updating now, so maybe that counts for something? 
> 
> Love you guys!


	4. Chapter Four

“You need to understand Harry, I never, ever, meant to leave you alone.”

Cedric’s eyes were imploring, begging Harry to understand. He didn’t think he could stand it if Harry hated him, or felt like he had been abandoned. He physically needed for Harry to understand, to see.

Harry felt a huge wash of relief that he hadn’t realized he needed. Even if he logically knew that Cedric loved him and wouldn’t just toss him aside like that, he also knew that he wasn’t worth the love that Cedric had shown him. His uncle had repeatedly informed him of precisely how unlovable he was, and a large part of him had feared that Cedric had finally realized that.

“Hey now,” Cedric said, bopping Harry’s nose gently, “I know that look. No more thinking like that. I love you, and you mean the world to me. Whatever self-deprecating thoughts are running around your gorgeous little head right now have no business there.”

Harry blushed quietly, looking down at the ground. He knew better than to believe Cedric’s words, because he knew that he was just a worthless little freak, but he had long since accepted that for some reason Cedric didn’t see him that way. It was an anomaly that he thanked his lucky stars for every day.

Frustrated, Cedric went to convey his feelings one of the only ways he had found worked. He shifted the smaller teen in his arms ever so slightly to face a bit more towards him. Harry looked startled at the sudden move, but Cedric forged on, placing one gentle hand on the back of Harry’s neck, pulling the teen into a passionate kiss. He tried to push every emotion, every feeling he had into the kiss, trying to express everything that he didn’t have the words for

Harry melted into the kiss, responding after only a second of shocked inaction. It had been too long since he’d felt this, too long since Cedric had reassured him in this way of his love.

When they finally pulled apart, breathing slightly heavier, they simultaneously remembered their audience. Harry blushed, burying his face into the crook of Cedric’s neck. Cedric kept his hand resting on the back of Harry’s neck, looking towards a bemused Tom and starting to apologize. Tom held up a hand, stopping him before he even started.

“No need to apologize. You’ve been separated under the worst of circumstances, it’s only right that you reaffirm your relationship.”

Harry simply stared at the eloquent, intelligent, and very not insane man in front of him. The Dark Lord was definitely not living up to his evil reputation, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder where the psychopath whom he had faced in his first year went.

As if sensing Harry’s confusion, Tom looked at Cedric.

“You have yet to explain, Cedric, and I do believe Harry is quite confused.”

Cedric nodded, blushing slightly, still a little thrown by the amazing kiss. He looked back at Harry, swallowed slightly, and steeled himself for what he knew wouldn’t be easy.

“I guess this starts around twenty years ago. It’s the same story we’ve both heard over and over again. There was a Dark Lord named Voldemort, who was so evil and committed so many atrocities against the human race that people became afraid of even saying his name. And Dumbledore, being the wise leader that he is, fought against this Dark Lord with a select group of people, both of our parents included.”

Harry nodded diligently, recognizing the story that he had indeed heard from many different people over his time in the wizarding world. He knew what had happened, he was just confused as to why Cedric would be repeating it again.

Cedric bit his lip, nervous as to how Harry was going to receive the truth.

“Except, Harry, that’s not what actually happened.”

Harry’s brow furrowed (in a rather adorable manner, and it took Cedric a moment to refocus himself on the serious matter at hand). How could the tale that almost everyone he had ever met had told him not be true.            

“You see, in all reality Voldemort was only a villain because that was what he was made to be. He was created, crafted into the perfect Dark Lord so that the perfect savior could come to save the day.” He paused, not wanting to deliver the next bit of information that he knew would break his little lover’s heart. “Harry, the person who was behind all of this was Dumbledore.”

Harry jerked violently, almost propelling himself off of Cedric’s lap. He turned to stare at his guardian in horror, not wanting to believe what he had just been told. He started murmuring, so quietly that Cedric, who was sat so close to him, had a hard time hearing.

“No. Dumbledore cares about me and is a good person, he wouldn’t do that. Tell me he wouldn’t do that Cedric!”          

The last part was almost shouted. This was a rare occurrence for Harry, and made Cedric feel all the more guilty for destroying one of the only relationships in Harry’s life that he had perceived as positive. However, even if the boy couldn’t see it, Dumbledore had been toxic to him. Cedric knew that he had to cut the older wizard out, expose him for what he really was if Harry was to ever really heal.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Cedric took a moment to hold Harry closer, consoling him, before continuing.  

“Dumbledore was always a little off. He was obsessed with power, and was going to do whatever he had to do in order to get it. He started researching the idea of the Deathly Hallows, a set of three powerful magical objects that he believed would give him the magic he needed to rule the world. But he wasn’t working on this alone. He became involved with a wizard named Gellert Grindelwald.

“As time went on Dumbledore became more and more obsessed and paranoid. He started to think that Gellert, who loved Dumbledore, was only helping him because he wanted the power of the Hallows to himself. Dumbledore hatched a plan then, a plan that he would eventually repeat in the case of Tom Riddle.

“Dumbledore knew that a large part of holding power over the people was to gain their favor. He also knew that the quickest way to do this was to save them from something they didn’t understand and couldn’t fight themselves. But at the time the wizarding world was peaceful, and had been for a long time. There wasn’t a villain to fight…so he made one.”

The dawning comprehension on Harry’s face was agony to Cedric. He hated having to hurt his love like this, but he knew he had to. A quick glance at Tom showed that the older man had sunken back into his seat, his face closed and revealing nothing of his feelings. Cedric knew that this mostly happened when Tom didn’t want to show that he was in pain, or any other emotion that he had been conditioned to consider a weakness. With a sigh, Cedric continued with the story, trying to make it as concise as possible so as not to drag out the misery of two of the people he cared most about.

“Dumbledore started experimenting with all sorts of ancient and mostly illegal magics. One of these was blood magic. He found a way to virtually enslave someone, much like the Imperius curse but a lot more all-encompassing. The person whose blood he used would be aware of themselves, but their goals changed. Not only did Dumbledore take away their ability to act as they usually would, but he made them think that it was their idea in the first place. After long enough with the blood magic the person wouldn’t even remember who they used to be, they would only be helplessly pursuing whatever Dumbledore wanted as though it was their own personal dream.

“He tested this magic with Grindelwald, and it worked. Soon enough Grindlewald, who used to love Dumbledore and was a kind, gentle person, was the leading Dark Lord of his age. He was murdering and cursing, doing things that he would never have otherwise done. And of course, who else could stop him but Dumbledore, the one who had created him?

“After Grindelwald had done enough to frighten the wizarding world, causing massive amounts of damage, Dumbledore stepped up as the ‘hero’ fighting a battle that Grindlewald never could have won in the first place because of the compulsion written into his blood. Dumbledore didn’t think twice before sentencing the man who had loved him to life in a hopeless prison for crimes he hadn’t wanted to commit.”

Harry had tears running down his face now, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

“Dumbledore was right; after his ‘battle’ with Grindlewald the wizarding world came to see him as their savior, the light that was going to lead them out of dark times. It was a mantle he was more than willing to take, because it meant he had power, but there’s truth to the idea that power screws with your head. He became even more paranoid of someone coming along and taking all that which he had created. So he worked his way through Hogwarts, making sure that he was nipping any truly powerful wizards or witches in the bud, either putting blocks on their magic or making them disappear entirely.

“It worked, too. This went along for years until along came Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle who was an orphan, an heir to Slytherin, and possibly the most powerful wizard to cross the threshold of Hogwarts to that point.

Tom snorted slightly, not writing off what Cedric was saying but treating it with the sort of derision that only someone who had been burned before can produce.

“Dumbledore was threatened. He had worked so hard to take the world for himself and then all of the sudden there was a teenager who could take it all from him. So he did the only thing he could think to himself to do; in Tom’s fourth year, Dumbledore once again worked the blood magic, and took Tom’s will away from him.”

Harry gasped, turning to look at Tom with horrified eyes. He had felt the imperius curse’s effects, he knew how horrible it was to not be able to dictate your own actions. Regardless of what Tom might have done to him (which Harry was now beginning to see hadn’t really been Tom at all), no one deserved that kind of helplessness.

“Dumbledore forced Tom to take the darker road in life, a road Tom wouldn’t have gone down otherwise. Instead of pursuing a career in the Ministry, where he could make a difference in the world, Tom suddenly found himself more drawn to harsher, crueler forms of magic. Magic such as horcruxes.”

At Harry’s confused glance, Cedric gave a short overview on what horcruxes were and how they were made. Harry was appropriately shocked and dismayed. He gazed to Tom with such pity in his eyes. Cedric had to marvel over the fact that as much as Harry had been mistreated in his life, as much reason as Harry had to give up on caring about anyone, he was still the sweetest, most compassionate being that Cedric had ever met.

“Slowly but surely, Dumbledore turned Tom into the second Grindlewald, taking that potential for an amazing leader of wizarding society and warping it into something evil that suited his purposes better. Not only did he get rid of the possibility of Tom taking away his power, but he also created another monster that he could defeat, just cementing the wizarding world’s worship of him.

“But Tom fought him, as much as he was able. Tom retained just enough of his mind to be eventually be able to fight him off for short periods at a time, though not till many, many years had passed. So he took the following that his compulsion-driven madness had gained him, and from their children-most of whom had been forced into service- selected for himself an inner circle whose views matched his own, and not Dumbledore’s. In his rare moments of lucidity, Tom explained to this inner circle why he was the way he was. They bonded with him, becoming loyal to the true wizard beneath the haze that Dumbledore had created. They were able to stop Tom from doing some of the more destructive things that his compulsion drove him to do, but were unable to stop him all of the time. Dumbledore was soon able to get a hold of a few of them, such as the Lestranges, and work some of the same compulsions into their blood.

“Dumbledore wanted to do more with Tom than he had with Grindlewald. As much as the wizarding world loved him for taking care of the previous Dark Lord, he was not indispensable to them. He wanted to create the sense that no one in the wizarding world could live a safe and happy life if Dumbledore was not in control of it. So he made Voldemort’s plot more complicated, more difficult to unravel.

“He enlisted the help of some of his brightest and best students (though not too bright, he’d made sure of that). He convinced them that they needed to help defeat Voldemort, that it was their responsibility to help him stop the Dark Lord. But he didn’t realize that he’d inadvertently brought about the creation of a wizard far more powerful than either himself or Tom. By pulling together the Order, he had also pulled together more firmly a witch and a wizard who would fall desperately in love with each other. Their names were Lily and James.”

Harry’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, and he stared up at Cedric incredulously.

“My parents?! But how… you said that they’d… the most powerful… Cedric, I’m not!”

Cedric hushed the panicking teenager, pulling him closer and holding him tightly.

“Yes you are, Harry. And you’ll be a lot more so when we take the block that Dumbledore placed on your magic off.”

Harry whined, overwhelmed by the influx of information and surprise that he had received in the last several hours. Cedric commiserated, gently stroking the dark head of hair.

“We’re almost done, Harry. Just a little bit more.”

Harry looked up at Cedric, his eyes gone a little glassy. Cedric recognized the first signs of Harry starting to disassociate and slip into his headspace. He did so when he was particularly overwhelmed. It used to happen a lot more, but since he had met Cedric these episodes had become less and less frequent.

“Hey now, just a little more.”

Harry nodded a little absently, and Cedric hurried on while he still had the younger boy’s attention, knowing he would probably lose the chance soon.

“Dumbledore realized his mistake as soon as you were born. He could sense the raw magic in you, how powerful you really were. He knew that he had to make sure that magic wasn’t allowed to mature. So he created a prophecy and fed it to the Dark Lord’s ranks. He pitted the two people he wanted gone most in this world against each other. However, he didn’t expect that your parents were much smarter than he gave them credit for.

“They had figured out that Dumbledore wasn’t quite the Light hero that he made himself out to be. They also knew that with the prophecy the way it was there was no way for you to live, so they sought out a way to try and fix it. They managed to make contact with some of the more peaceable members of Tom’s inner circle and arranged an audience with him. As soon as he was aware of himself his circle called your parents to come and see him.

“They spoke for a long time, discussing you and how best to save everyone involved. Your parents started working on a solution for the blood magic affecting Tom. Your mother was particularly gifted with charms and runes, and your father was a trained pureblood, much more familiar with some of the ancient magics that were coming into play. Together they formed a formidable team, and they started to undo the compulsions bit by bit.

“But they didn’t finish soon enough. Dumbledore pushed Tom to act on the prophecy before Tom was able to fight him off. Dumbledore wanted Tom to simply walk into your house and murder everyone there. Tom’s mind took a back seat to Voldemort’s, and he had to watch in anguish as the two that he had become friends with were murdered by his own wand. However, he had enough of himself in his mind to not outright kill you. He fought, buying himself enough time to cast some powerful protection charms around you, shielding you as best as he could while he was able.

“But eventually Dumbledore won back control, and the killing curse was cast. Tom’s shields worked, but in a way he didn’t expect. He accidentally tied himself to you. But he realized that the part of him that was connected to you was free of compulsion, as your blood was not the blood that was involved in the spell. So in his last moments of the fight Tom knew that he had to destroy the body and blood that the spells were linked to in order to free himself. And he did exactly that.”

Cedric paused for a moment, letting the magnitude of the story he was telling float around the room. Harry was whimpering, his mind battling what he had previously considered undeniable truth against what he was now learning. And it all made sense, and it hurt that it made sense because it meant that it was highly possible that he had been horribly betrayed by those that he was closest too.

“Dumbledore was furious. He had lost control of Tom. But he knew he still had you, and he was determined to make something of you. But first he had to break you. So he cast the Imperius on Sirius, causing him to not take immediate custody but instead go after Peter (and pulling strings to make sure those actions kept him in prison and unable to interfere), and he placed you in a household where he knew you would be treated as a slave.

“Dumbledore was responsible. Dumbledore was responsible for all of it.”

And with that last proclamation, Harry tenuous hold on reality snapped, and he sank into unconsciousness, black clouding his vision as the concerned cries of Cedric faded from his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was long. 
> 
> Okay, so I'm putting this out there right now, I'm sorry if I miss something or make a weird leap in logic anywhere in this chapter. I just really hate writing backstories, so I wanted to try and get it out of the way as fast as possible. Don't worry, I'll go back through and fill in some other stuff later, but this is the main changes that I'm making, so it gives you a basic overview of why things happened the way they did in my version of the story. Of course, if you have any major questions I'll do my best to answer them, as long as the answer doesn't pertain to the later story line. 
> 
> Also, I'm too tired to proofread, so if you guys find any errors in this chapter if you could let me know that would be awesome! 
> 
> Thanks!


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